Milk for Dust
Milk for Dust ©
Like rain to sand
He bought blood from my veins, with shameful notes
but saw only refuse in the costume of my body;
Attracted and repulsed, he strangled my throat
And threw me aside to the gutter of the road.
Lifeless and stained, I picked up the chalice of my name
and grabbed pennies in the mud
But it was not enough to buy food for flesh
So tomorrow again, I will sell milk for dust.
In the tedious quest of pleasure for refuge,
Magnetising the infinite, eternal lure of feminine,
Risking the ceaseless sewer of repugnance,
I fill my chalice with sand for blood
And live on empty veins of lust.
Tanisha Bhana (for Nasreen)
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